


Shadows in the Past

by mneiai



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Dream of Spring ideas, Black or Red a Dragon Is Still a Dragon, Complete, Gen, House Targaryen, Jon Snow is Called Aemon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow is not a great mediator, Not Beta Read, Protectiveness, Targaryen Restoration, post-defeating the Others, vaguely based on GoT season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: The Others have been defeated, the North is saved, but when they turn their attentions South, the throne has already been won--by a young man claiming to be Aegon Targeryan. Jon had never expected to find more family than he'd had, but now he's caught between the aunt who fought beside him and the brother who should be dead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm one of the people who believe that a lot of the Jon stuff in season 8 is probably more reflective of what the fAegon stuff will be like in the books--with Dany and fAegon's competing claims causing issues. And you know I love my Targ family drama and also Jon loving his family despite its flaws.

"You promised to help me support my claim for the throne!" Daenerys slammed a hand down on the table, making Jon jump.

"I did. Against Cersei."

She looked like she was moments away from having Drogon roast him alive and he couldn't even say he blamed her. This was not how he'd expected things to go after the resolution with the Others in the North. He'd actually thought that the Southern war might be the easier one to win, jokingly telling Rickon he'd be back before he'd ever realized he was gone.

Jon found himself wishing that Stannis was still alive. He would have understood--oh, he would have locked Jon up the moment he expressed any doubt, but he'd understand. He'd supported a brother he'd barely known through a war, Jon not wanting to directly fight a brother he didn't know wouldn't surprise him.

"Dany...."

"Don't call me that!"

"Your grace," he corrected. "Neither of us expected...this. You know I had no more information on what was going on than you did. Less, even, as I'm sure Tyrion and Ser Barristan actually had contacts in the South." He looked away, not able to meet her eyes. "I can't be a kinslayer."

"But I can?" she hissed. "Not that I will be, because this 'Aegon' is fake! We all know that."

"On the off-chance that he's not, that he is my brother...he's a conqueror, and the eldest son of an eldest son...."

Daenerys moved around the room, her agitation clear. "My father declared Viserys his heir, my mother crowned him King on Dragonstone, and I was my brother's heir. Neither he nor you have a stronger claim than I do!"

She collapsed into the chair beside his and he carefully placed a hand over hers, squeezing it. "He might not know that, you realize. No one might have told him that, growing up...wherever it was he grew up."

"It's just...every time I think things are working out, that I can finally be at peace, something new and horrible comes up." She looked at him with wide, helpless eyes and he found himself almost hating his maybe-brother for getting to King's Landing first.

"Why don't I go and meet with him? Just representing the North, so he doesn't think my words reflect on you. I can try to find out what he wants. Who...who he really is."

After a moment, she sank deeper into her seat and nodded. "I'm trusting you with this, nephew."

"I swear, I'll talk to him and come back to discuss it with you as soon as I can. I won't just...betray you as soon as I meet someone else." He gave a wry smile. "My oaths can still hold _some_ weight."

***

The young man in front of him didn't look old enough to be his older brother, but then again Jon knew that some people just aged differently, and certainly his own time living beyond the Wall hadn't helped his appearance. It had taken him three weeks in King's Landing to get an audience, carting his father's silver-stringed harp from meeting to meeting to prove himself over and over again, but now he was finally in front of "King Aegon VI" and he found himself at a loss for words.

Aegon smiled and held out a hand, which Jon grasped cautiously. "Little brother, I am so pleased to meet you. When I heard rumors from the North about you, I didn't know what to think, but I admit I was excited. I'd never thought I'd meet a sibling."

"...I didn't, either," he murmured, still studying the other man. "Everyone said that...that both of you died in the sack. It was one of the reasons my Uncle went to such lengths to hide me."

The King's face became solemn as he nodded. "Yes. To think, I thought the worst of your uncle for so long, and now I realize he was doing our family a great service. The Starks will be rewarded for sheltering you, do not worry."

Jon gave a small smile, relieved that there weren't immediate threats or power plays. This was so different than his first meetings with the kings he had met before (and Daenerys). Though, none of them had known who he really was on their first meeting any more than he had.

"Thank you. They've been through so much these last few years, I'm relieved to know they can finally have some peace, your grace." 

"Please, you're my brother, you can call me Aegon."

Aegon shifted to stand beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and guiding him towards a table setup deeper in the room. It was a meal for two, with more than enough food to have fed the entire high table at Winterfell when Jon left, with the way they'd been rationing. More proof that whether this man kept the throne or Daenerys took it from him, the North desperately needed an alliance with the South again.

"I'd like to get to know you, Aemon. I know one dinner won't be enough for us to catch up on all we missed, but we have to start somewhere."

Sitting down in the indicated seat, Jon considered Aegon's words. He supposed it couldn't hurt anything and might give him opportunities to find out more about Aegon, in turn.

"What would you like to know?"

***

Jon was still shooting scowls at the guards as he entered Aegon's solar.

"Little brother! What's the matter?" The tone was somewhat condescending, but having been an older brother himself Jon didn't let it bother him too much.

"I was under the impression I was a guest."

Frowning at that, Aegon waved a hand at the guards behind Jon and they left, closing the door behind them. He walked back towards the desk where his work was scattered along the surface, attention still on Jon.

"Of course you are! Did something happen?"

"I'm being prevented from leaving."

Aegon stopped short, turning back to fully face him. "Why would you leave?"

"Why would I--to return home, Aegon."

"... You are a Targaryan. _This_ is your home. We've only just gotten it back."

"Winterfell is my home. And I've only just gotten that back. And Rickon is but a boy, still."

"You said you'd left him with a trustworthy regent."

Jon frowned. "I did, there are none we can trust more than Lord Reed, he kept my secret for most of my life and has ever been loyal to House Stark. But it isn't the same as being there."

Aegon made a show of considering that as he sorted through his papers. "You might not have realized it, but as I have not yet had a son...you are my heir. The heir to the Iron Throne."

Jon grimaced, making Aegon laugh. "I don't want the throne."

"I know that, but that doesn't change the fact you're in the line of succession. And having you travel all the way North...it's too big of a risk. There are still hostile forces in the Riverlands and between the Ironborn in the West and the pirates and other enemies in the East, sailing is not very safe, either."

"I made it here easily enough."

Aegon finally seemed to find what he was looking for and produced a scroll he waved towards Jon. "I received an announcement last week, from Daenerys Targaryen, where she declared herself the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms." 

Jon tentatively stepped forward, taking the offered scroll and skimming it.

"You and Daenerys are quite close, aren't you, little brother? She spent quite a bit of time in the North with you before you made your way here."

"Aegon...."

"Do you mean to return to her? To help her steal the throne I won from the Usurper's family, from the people who murdered our sister?"

Anger seeped into Aegon's voice, and hurt, too, Jon thought. "Is that why you wanted me here? To keep me from her? Is that why you agreed to see me at all?"

"You're _my brother_ , I want you with me. You should be on my side in this!"

"I don't want to be on a side! I don't want any part of a--a dance of dragons!"

"You can't be neutral."

"I can. I will. I'll have no part in kinslaying, not by either of you. And you don't need another war, especially not one where your enemy can put real doubt in everyone's mind about whether you're who you say you are."

"...Do you think she's right? That I'm not your brother?"

Jon looked back at the scroll, reading over that part, the words already familiar. "Tyrion told her his doubts about you, she hasn't met you. If we can arrange a meeting, somewhere neutral, somewhere it would be hard for either side to attack...."

"She has dragons, anywhere we might normally meet is going to be vulnerable to them."

He bit his lip, debating with himself, then finally admitted, "I bonded with one of them. She wouldn't be able to use mine against you like that. And...she might keep the third away, too. She only just got him back, she'll worry that if you do have Targaryen blood, that you could bond with him."

A brightness lit up Aegon's gaze at the suggestion. "That is a possibility...and then she wouldn't be able to doubt me."

Blackfyres, Jon thought, remembering Daenerys' past arguments about Aegon, had Targaryen blood. But he didn't dare say it out loud.

"So you'll meet with her?"

"Perhaps, I would certainly prefer to have our aunt on our side."

"And I can go back North?"

Aegon tensed again. "... I'd prefer you stay, until I know you'd be safe."

Jon scoffed. "And when will that be? When you have a son? When he's two, or five, or ten? When you have multiple children?"

"When this war is won and all challengers have been put in their place. When anyone can travel from King's Landing all the way to Winterfell without a definite chance of being waylaid."

He wondered what would happen if he could draw Viserion there and ride him home. He had dreams of Ghost, still, despite the distance, and while his connection to his dragon wasn't quite the same as warging, it was close enough.

"Daenerys knew of you, knew you'd taken King's Landing. She worried what sort of person you were. I came here on my own, as a representative of the North, but she knew I was coming. Let me go reason with her."

"Did you say the same to her, little brother?" Aegon's words were harsh, but his tone was amused. "So dedicated to family, you'd try to have us make peace just so you don't have to choose a side?"

Jon flinched. "And why not? I've had enough of fighting."

Giving a long-suffering sigh, Aegon took the scroll back. "I will send some of my own people along with yours. They'll have orders to bring you back at the first sign of danger."

"Daenerys isn't a danger to me."

"If she believes the worst of me, that means she declared herself my enemy while you were my hostage. Forgive me if I don't find myself trusting her."

"That's...fair."

***

The men that Aegon sent along were Golden Company men who had the look of Northmen and wore armor that did not set them apart from Jon's own men--Jon didn't like the duplicity, but he could understand Aegon's protective instincts and decided not to make a fuss.

He met Daenerys' forces in the Riverlands, which felt so close to the North he was tempted to keep riding, to Moat Cailin, beyond that. 

Ushered into her tent as soon as he arrived, despite the late hour, she almost flung herself at him in relief. "I was so worried! Reports said it took time for you to even meet with him, but then he put you in the Holdfast and it was nearly impossible to get any information!"

"I'm fine! He was--he was kind, brotherly. Not a tyrant, definitely not mad."

"But _not_ a Targaryen," she insisted.

"I...don't know. He has pale hair, eyes that are more purple than not. Valyrian features." And Jon wanted him to be his brother, desperately, now that he'd gotten to know him. Robb was gone, Bran was missing, and Rickon was...changed by his time on Skagos, and barely knew Jon to begin with.

"So he's the son of a whore from Lys," she grimaced, "or a Blackfyre trying again to steal the Iron Throne from our family."

"He agreed to meet with you, somewhere neutral. He'd prefer if you didn't bring the dragons. There's...a certain fear you'll just use Drogon against him without warning."

Daenerys scowled. "I should."

She shook her head after a moment of him just staring at her and motioned to one of her attendants. "Make sure his tent is ready, he'll need a bath and food."

"Aunt Dany...."

"Don't, you look like you haven't stopped riding since you left the Keep. We'll talk more tomorrow about...this meeting the newest usurper wants."

***

Jon idled around camp throughout the morning, not allowed to participate in the meetings being held--Daenerys apologetically explained that her advisors didn't trust him and he'd accepted that it was easier to not have that particular fight yet.

She called him to her at lunch and his new guards followed him and stayed stationed at the opening of the pavilion they dined in. Around him were familiar faces from the battle in the North, most of them seemed happy enough to see him--they'd been through enough together to know what sort of man Jon was, even if some of them doubted his commitment to Daenerys' conquest.

"I wished to apologize again for not having you in my meetings today," she started with once he'd sat beside her.

He waved it off. "I understand, I don't blame you. I hope this all works out, that none of us need to fight again, but...you have to prepare for the worst."

She nodded, frowning and looking as though there was more she wished to say, but decided to hold back. "This...Aegon...has Dragonstone garrisoned, but most of his forces are on the mainland. We had thought that we could meet on one of the more out of the way beaches. One ship each. Ourselves and our representatives rowed to shore." She raised her eyebrows at him. "The North also present, as a neutral party, to keep the peace."

Jon was relieved to know they still trusted him in that much. "That could work. You'll have to keep your dragons back, but...he'll know you have them. You'll technically be on his territory, but neither of you should have a great advantage."

And the North, caught in between if one side decided to fight. He just hoped everyone would keep a cool head, his people had lost enough. 

Towards the end of the meal, Jon leaned in closer, speaking to Daenerys on a personal level outside of the politicking he was becoming regretfully far too used to, "If, one way or another you end up on the Iron Throne...I imagine I can act as your Warden of the North until Rickon is of age?"

She looked at him with more surprise than he was expecting. "I had expected you to perhaps take a position on my small council. As a member of the royal family, your place really is in our seat."

What, he wondered, possessed his family to think the Red Keep was so great?

"...I'm not really made for city life, Dany. And it's so _hot_ down there."

Laughing, she gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll adjust. We're dragons, nephew, your Stark blood may have allowed you to conceal yourself in the barren wastes of the North, but your true nature will show itself once you give it the chance."

Maybe Daenerys and Aegon would end up liking each other enough that they wouldn't mind him slipping away to the North. He could hope.


	2. Chapter 2

The "peace summit" at Dragonstone, which ended up consisting of not just Daenerys and Aegon, but their major allies as well, took place on an overcast, windy week. While not fond of the humidity, Jon had no problem with the chill, and most of Daenerys' forces, after having spent months in the North trudging through the snow, also fared well.

Aegon, meanwhile, looked miserable the few times Jon saw him around people he'd let see his true feelings. 

"Do you think if we just offered her this place, as it is our ancestral seat, she'd be happy? She's welcome to it," he muttered, sinking deeper into the furs he'd grabbed as soon as he'd entered the private tent.

Jon chuckled and went over to him, picking up one of his hands and rubbing it between his. "Now you know how miserable I feel in King's Landing with the heat."

"They're so close! How can the temperature be so different?"

"It's not _that_ different, it's just that one's an island and the other isn't, I suppose."

Grimacing, Aegon sank deeper into the furs. "She seems...."

"Nice? Kind? Easy to work with?" Jon asked, hopefully, but Aegon rolled his eyes at him.

"Demanding. Entitled. Seconds away from burning all of us alive and flying off to take my throne."

"She's really not...she's...she's been through a lot of things, awful things, practically alone. The entire time, the throne has been something she could focus on. When we found out that I was a Targaryen...it was very difficult for her. She desperately wanted more family, to not be alone, to not be the last of us, but she'd also worked so hard to get what power she had and she worried that it would all be taken away from her. Then, after doing the right thing, saving the North, she turns around and...her fears had come true even without my participation."

"I can understand that," Aegon insisted, "but it doesn't change that _I, too,_ focused on the throne, that I couldn't have a normal, peaceful life. I was raised to take back my place as king, to restore our family to its glory. I cannot simply step aside because her delusional brother gave her false hope."

Jon was finding that dealing with his Targaryen family was not very different than dealing with the highborn at Winterfell when he was still nothing but a bastard boy. He kept quiet, even when what he had to say made sense, because he knew they wouldn't want to listen. Neither Daenerys nor Aegon had lived the life of luxury they could have had, but they hadn't grown up as Jon had, thinking they were naturally less than the others around them, and therefore they were used to the lies people told them to keep them comfortable.

"Have you...considered marriage?" His own people had suggested that, when it was just Daenerys and himself.

That pulled a surprising laugh from Aegon. "I'm afraid that won't be the solution we might hope for. Neither of us is willing to accept being the consort, neither of us is willing to make the sort of compromises on our power the other desires. And nevermind how Arianne might react to that, with all she expects." He sighed. "If only you'd been born Visenya like our father hoped, we could wed and merge our claims against hers, and live happily."

"And what makes you think I'd be happy just being your consort?"

"I know I could have made you happy, all it would take is meat pies, sword practice, and belly rubs for Ghost."

Aegon laughed again, Jon joining him after a moment. Finally, he sobered, leaning closer and meeting Jon's eyes. "Do you plan to marry her, if I do not?"

Jon blinked. Daenerys _was_ sweet, in a way, and if he'd had to marry her to get her help against the Others, he would have. But now, having had the chance to see how driven she was for the throne, he couldn't imagine a relationship between them working out.

"No? I know I'm not the sort to seek out power, but nor do I wish to be a prop. Both my last namesakes never married and took vows to foreswear their claims. I'd much rather be a Dragonknight than a toy."

Aegon visibly relaxed. "If you think I'm going to put you in my Kingsguard, little brother, you might have more of the family madness than it appears. I won't have you dying for me."

"And the Night Watch is no more. I suppose it's the Citadel." Jon made a disgusted face and the two of them laughed again.

***

"He is so-so!" Daenerys didn't finish her sentence, just let out a noise of frustration. "You did not warn me about this!"

"I don't know how I could," Jon argued, "he was stubborn with me, but only on the same issues you are. I figured that would make the two of you get along, not...."

She scowled, rubbing her forehead. "No, I can't blame you for this, you're so...you." 

A servant came in with tea and small cakes for them and they both helped themselves in the silence. Jon smiled wistfully to see lemon cakes on the platter, he had told Daenerys of his sister Sansa's love for them and how nostalgic they made him feel, and near every time they had a dessert they were featured.

"We're going to war," she said, out of nowhere, and Jon choked on his tea.

"What?!"

"It's inevitable. We've agreed that you will return to Winterfell with guards from both of us, to keep the other side from using you as a hostage."

Jon stared. "...Why send guards at all? Winterfell is my home. The North won't be a threat, not with the Boltons gone and the Others sorted."

"Because you are our heir, you are mine and you are his. If we both fall in battle, you will be the only Targaryen left to sit the Iron Throne and continue our family line."

Jon couldn't imagine a worse situation to be in. Perhaps, if such a thing happened, he could still find one of Robert's bastards to legitimize. 

"Is there nothing for it? Couldn't you go back to your kingdom in Essos and the two of you have your children wed?" he suggested, desperately. Daenerys had spoken wistfully of her time in Meereen.

Daenerys looked into the distance for a moment, then shook her head and focused on the small cake in front of her. "No. No. Essos was my home only because Westeros was taken from us. I have worked too hard to get to this point, I've sacrificed too much. Far more than that sanctimonious little--" she bit off her insults, with a sullen glance in Jon's direction. "If it were you on the throne, maybe I would be happy with that solution. But after everything? After we saved the world? I can't think he's the best person for the throne. I can't think he's anything better than the Usurper or the Mad Queen Cersei. I can't _trust_ in another stranger."

Jon grimaced. "Did trusting me work out so badly?"

"...I didn't mean that."

"You'd have the throne, possibly, if you hadn't come to help me."

"And I'd be ruling over a graveyard, just as you'd said. We had to work _together_ to stop the Others. What sort of Queen would I be if I ignored the cries for help of my people?"

 _What sort of King was Aegon, that he did?_ Jon filled in what she left unsaid, knowing that a part of him agreed with her.

"Well, at least Rickon will be excited I'm back."

"And Ghost, as well, I'm sure he missed you."

"He would hate King's Landing, Dany, _I_ hate it, and I don't have a full coat of fur."

"Poor little nephew. That wolf clothing you're wearing to hide your dragon must be so hot in the South." She chuckled, flicking a berry at his nose and he made a mummery of pouting in offense, sticking his tongue out.

"You'll take Viserion, as well."

Jon stared. "...Truly?"

"Aegon has very few forces left from his own battles and it wasn't our numbers that mattered at the Wall, so my forces are still near intact. I'd feel better if Viserion was with you, just in case. And I know he would, too." She frowned in thought. "I may also send Rhaegal to you, if they find a way to make the battle dangerous for my dragons. I will not have another repeat of what happened in Meereen."

"And I'll have to spend months explaining to Rickon why he can't be a dragonrider."

"Better you than me."

***  
Jon and his people were packed into a ship ready to sail for White Harbor, the only delay being Aegon's attempts to meet with him. He and Daenerys were having a few last minute meetings, as if that could possibly change the upcoming war, and there hadn't been a good time to see each other since.

They met on the deck of Jon's ship, far enough away from others to not be overheard, with the guards Aegon had assigned to him making a further buffer. The King hugged him tightly, as if memorizing the feel of it.

"When next we see each other, this problem will be solved."

 _When next we see each other, you may be a kinslayer._ Jon bit his tongue.

"If you have need of anything, send a raven to Dragonstone. It's enough of a roundabout flight that it shouldn't be shot down and someone will see that I get the message."

"Shouldn't it be you that _I_ worry about? You're the one going off to war."

"It won't be my first war, little brother. This one may have dragons, but Dorne has beaten dragons and they have my back now."

Jon nodded and, after a brief hesitation, pulled Aegon in for another hug. "Be safe, big brother. If you find a means to have peace between you, _take it_. I don't want to lose anymore family, not to war."

"Oh, Aemon, this must be horrible for you. Trapped North while I go to war." They'd only discussed Robb once, when Jon had let himself drink too much one evening at a feast, but of course Aegon would remember that. "I'll keep you as up to date as I can. And I promise to not do anything stupid."

"You say that, but you can't _know_ in advance. Robb thought he was being honorable."

"Well, it is a good thing I have had you to show me the pitfalls of honor," Aegon teased, lightening the mood just a little. "Don't go freezing to death on me, I won't be forgiving if my guards return me an ice block for a brother."

Jon snorted and pulled away, finally. "Oh, please, _I'll_ be fine, it's you who will need five layers of furs just to survive a walk in the Vale."

A few more words exchanged, their final goodbyes, and a thick, sealed letter that Aegon left with him in case he were to lose, and they parted. 

In the distance, far above, Jon could feel the pull of Viserion's attention and he let it wash over him, the dragon's calm relaxing his worried mind. There was nothing he could do to fix things, to stop the inevitable war, all he could do was pray that they both survived and that he could keep whoever lost from losing their head in the end.


End file.
